


Letters to Lead Me Home

by SuperWoman0124



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: First Kiss, Flashbacks, Frottage, Idiots in Love, M/M, Pining, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Black Panther (2018), Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Stucky - Freeform, cryo! Bucky, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 14:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 4,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13977180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperWoman0124/pseuds/SuperWoman0124
Summary: Steve writes letters to Bucky in cryo-sleep and reminisces on their life before the serum. Pre and Post war flashbacks are enough to make Steve feel guilty for what he’s done, but it’s not enough to keep him from being with Bucky until they rip him away kicking and screaming.





	1. The First Letter

**Author's Note:**

> It's a tad bit AU, but not too, too far off from the original story. (Post Civil War but pre-black panther, I haven’t seen it yet, no spoilers, please!) 
> 
>  
> 
> This is a part of my “Challenge yourself” series that me and my BFF a_vause1980 have been hatching and scratching at since February of 2018. Come check us out for all your fanfiction needs. This one needed to contain three flashbacks.

_Bucky,_

_This has got to be a new experience for you. Going into the ice voluntarily. I would have thought that your stubbornness would have fought you through and through, but the fact that you made this decision on your own made me more determined to let it happen._

_It's been three days you've been on ice and it hurts to see you like this. I'm not going to lie. I just got you back and all we've done is fight since the moment I found out who you were on that bridge. Fight and run. Now all I do is sit around and watch you, wait for news from Shuri. I will have to hand it to you, for as relaxed as you are supposed to be, you still have this.. pained expression on your face. Like you're trying to wake yourself up from a nightmare but can't seem to pull yourself out of it. Seeing you on ice is difficult. And sometimes I'm afraid I'll never see you again. That's my nightmare._

_I'll tell you Buck, I think after we get those words out of your brain we outta' take a vacation. Somewhere warm. Somewhere that reminds us of what home used to be like._

_Speaking of which, the demolished our old apartment last week to make room for condos. In Brooklyn. Unbelievable. Our home is gone, Buck. But I honestly don't think I mind much. It wasn’t ever the run-down apartment that reminded me of home, it was you._

_Maybe we could go down to Coney Island again? I bet I'd have the stomach for some of the rides there now. I remember how much you loved to ride the rides, feel the wind in your hair, hold your hands up as your stomach dropped down a hill._

_Anyway, Nat is calling me, so I better run. See ya soon, Buck._

_Your Pal,_

_Steve_

__


	2. Coney Island, 1938

Coney Island was a staple in New York daily life. When two kids with some pocket change had nothing better to do on a Saturday in 1938, the booming amusement park is where their feet always lead them. 

 

They were older now, probably old enough to earn the stares they received by the 12-year-old punks waiting in line behind them, but today? They didn't care. Steve was (relatively) healthy, and he felt warm and welcome under the heavy weight of his best pal's arm around him. 

 

"You first?" Bucky's shining and smiling lips offered, a hand gesturing for Steve to climb aboard the Wonder Wheel first. Steve chose to sit on the right side, deciding that it would mess with his equilibrium less if he's facing forward. He climbed in, rocking the cage very little compared to what it was like when Bucky's stocky frame climbed on and sat across from him. The cage slammed shut and Steve suddenly felt uneasy but reminded himself to smile for Bucky's sake. 

 

It's not that he minded enclosed spaces. Not that he'd had much experience with them. It was being in an enclosed space _with_ Bucky. 

 

"You okay there, Stevie? You're sweatin' like a sinner in church." Bucky leaned forward in his seat, coming a little closer to observe Steve's pupils. 

 

"I'm-" He opened his mouth to speak just as the wheel began to move, shifting them into the air. The ride propelled them forward just as Steve's chest tightened, forcing him to clutch his closed fist into his chest. 

 

Bucky switched his seat over to move beside Steve, placing his strong fingers over the frail ones on Steve's chest. He lifted his other arm to wrap it around Steve, pulling his friend closely into his firm chest. The harder Bucky pulled him tighter, the more Steve's airways seemed to open up. 

 

"Breathe with me, Bud." 

 

Steve felt the blush running to his face, but focused on the slow, smooth sound of Bucky's exhales instead. He left his lungs struggle for a moment, turning his head to look out of the slats of the cage, watching the skyline of New York rise beside them. He controlled his breathing as he felt Bucky's punctuated breath across his neck, settling in to the nook he'd found in the space between Bucky's chin and shoulder. 

 

"So beautiful." The blonde calmed, huffing a sigh. 

 

"Yeah." Steve felt Bucky shift his eyesight from the view to his best bud's pale face overlooking the Hudson. "It is."


	3. The Second Letter

_Buck,_

_You've been under a month. I'm sorry I haven't visited more, but I've been tied up running._

_I've decided I'm tired of running. I know you feel the same way._

_I don't know what I'm doin' here, Buck. Hell, I don't even know if you're ever going to see these letters. I'm writing them for my own sanity. I know that. I know that's also why I'm here. After years of wondering where and how you were, it's a comfort knowing I can come see you whenever I want._

_The shit you must have been through. Jesus. I can't even imagine what it must have been like._

_Maybe you'll tell me one day._

_Yeah, right. You've never been a sharer. Not even when we were living together. Do you remember our first real fight? The one about the rent in 1943? I'll never forget that fight. You were so pinched up about every little detail I had to pry it out of you with a crowbar._

_Not that I think things haven't changed. I know you'll never completely be that man again. I hope some of you remembers the little times like that, but I need you to know that it's okay if you can't. I'll still be here for you. 'Til the end of the line._

_On a lighter note, Shuri says that you're doing well. Adjusting to the cryo just fine, as expected. She also says that I need to be "mindful of visitations" because your heart rate does backflips or something._

_Wonder why._

_Sometimes when I look at you, I miss Brooklyn. I miss the easy times spent strolling down the sidewalks just as the leaves started turning in Autumn. I miss the way you used to sit me down in the park, and we'd lay back and look at the clouds. I miss..._

_Anyway, we'll see what you really remember when you wake up. Maybe you'll tell me when we're on a beach on some island no one's ever heard of._

_I'd like to stay and write a little more, but your heart rate is spiking and I don't want Shuri kicking me out._

_Your best pal,_

_Steve_


	4. The Rent, 1943

"You lied to me?"

 

"N-No. I omitted-"

 

"Omission is lying's best friend, Buck."

 

"Stevie, it's not a big deal."

 

"It really is, Buck! You told me $20 was more than enough to cover my half. And I have to hear from the landlord that our rent is not $40, but $65?"

 

"Steve, calm down before you hurt yourself."

 

"If anyone in this room is getting' hurt, it sure as hell ain't me, Buck!"

 

Steve rushed at Bucky, pushing his open palms into the brunette's chest, barely knocking him back on his heels.

 

"You want a fight, Rogers? Fine. If that's what will make you feel better, I'll fight you. But what good can come of it, huh? You deck me, I deck you, we both walk away bloody and hurt. Or-" Bucky placed both of his open hands on Steve's shoulders and puffed a gentle sigh. "We can sit down and talk about this like the adults we're pretending to be."

 

Steve felt his anger slowly draining as the blood rushed to his cheeks, feeling ashamed and childish. He lowered his balled up fists and felt them hit his hip bones.

 

He was embarrassed that his first reaction was to become violent, and his heaving chest blossomed with the cool spread of his relaxation. Bucky pulled him in, wrapping his arms around Steve's head and resting his chin on the soft blonde hair.

 

"Just trying to help you out, you know? I have the money, you don't. You've got enough problems with your health and all that and I just..." Buck sighed and extended his arms, shifting his finger under Steve's chin to lift his face. “Tryin’ to help out a little punk.”

 

“I’m no charity case, Buck.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’ll pay you back every cent.”

 

“You don’t have to.”

 

“I know.” Steve tugged himself farther into Bucky’s embrace. “I want to.”


	5. The Third Letter

_Bucky,_

_I think Shuri is starting to hate me._

_Okay, hate is a strong word. She is starting to dislike me. I was here last week, writing you a letter and she came by right as you were starting to calm down from your heart-tantrum. I asked her about your progression. She told me the same thing she tells me every time I ask. That I’m on her speed dial. Whatever that is._

_It’s infuriating that I can only sit here and not help you. Like you’ve helped me._

_So, I’ve been spending my time thinking. About our past, our future. Forced myself to ask all the difficult questions. After I lost Peggy, I swore I would only be the Captain. No emotional attachments. Nothing that would supersede my duty._

_After I found you, and you were whole and you remembered... I started to question that._

_And Sharon? I’ve spoken to her… about what happened between us. And we agreed that it probably wasn’t a good idea. She said she saw something in me after that kiss. That I was disappointed? I don’t know. But it was mutual. She said she felt like I was emotionally unavailable, whatever that means._

_Why are people these days so complicated, Buck? It seems the only person that really gets me anymore is you._

_Had to ask myself another important one. Why I found myself so drawn to you, and if it was for the right reasons. You're the only person that's ever treated me like I was a person after Project Rebirth, not just a mortal weapon. You never tried to manipulate me into something you knew I wasn't. Never tried to use me for your own agenda. You were there because I needed you. And you supported me._

_And I cost you your life._

_When you think about it, the Winter Soldier is my fault._

_You should have went home. To Brooklyn. To Dot. None if this would have ever happened if I wouldn't have guilted you into staying._

_Maybe what you told me while you were on furlough before you left for Europe was what was supposed to happen. Or maybe it didn’t happen and it was my overworked mind playing tricks on me. I've played it over and over in my head more times than I can count. The way everything felt. How **real** everything suddenly was. _

_I think I’ve decided you’re never reading these letters. I’ve got way too much guilt to sort through before I start loading my crap onto your already full plate._

_Gotta go. Shuri says I cause you too much heartache._

_HA! If only she knew._

_Now you’re definitely never reading these._

_~~Your Pal,~~ _

_Yours,_

_Steve_

__


	6. Furlough, 1943

“Steve?” 

 

Steve felt his heart hit his stomach as he dropped the basin in his hands. The glass slipped through his fingers easily, and it shattered on the floor in front of him. 

 

He ran out of the bedroom and into the sofa room, poking his head through the doorway. 

 

It was exactly who he thought it was. 

 

Hell, he’d had no doubts. 

 

He know Bucky’s voice anywhere. 

 

Bucky had dropped his duffle beside him, his fatigues crisp and clean where they hugged his body. Steve felt his body being pulled toward the taller man, and he wrapped himself around Bucky’s statuesque form. Bucky quickly folded himself around Steve, breathing him in as he pulled him closer. 

 

“What the hell?” Steve yanked himself back as he stared at Bucky incredulously. 

 

“Furlough.” Bucky raised his fingers to touch the ugly purple ring surrounding Steve's eye socket. “I should say the same to you. What the hell happened to your eye?” Steve flinched, and he rolled his eyes. No use in lying. 

 

“Got into a fight today.” 

 

“Yeah, no shit. Do we have ice?” 

 

“Buck, you don't have to fuss.” 

 

“I asked if we had ice. Not if I had to fuss.” 

 

“In the icebox.” 

 

Bucky lifted his fingers from their spot on Steve's puffed cheek, removing his hat and setting it on the counter as he walked to the kitchen. 

 

He came back with a rag bunched around some ice, and he thrusted it into Steve's eye. 

 

“Jeez, Buck! Easy.” 

 

“Can't help it, Rogers.” Bucky was grinding his teeth. Never a good sign. “You getting into fights without me worries me.” 

 

“I did fine before I met you.” 

 

“Did you now?” Bucky lifted the ice pack, shifting it so it rested on Steve's browbone. “Is that why that kid was runnin’ away with your lunch money?” 

 

“Hardy har. I get it.” Steve placed his fingers over Bucky's on the pack. He sighed and rested against the warmth. “Good to have you home, Buck.” 

 

“Good to be home, Stevie.” 

 

As if he knocked himself out of his stupor, Bucky shook his head and pulled his hand away from Steve's eye, looking to the floor. 

 

“How long are you home for?” 

 

“A week. Then I get shipped off to Europe.” 

 

“Europe!” Steve didn't mean it to come out as angry as it sounded. “Gee, Buck. Color me jealous.” 

 

“I'd take you with me if I could, pal.” Bucky backed out of Steve's space, picking at a stray thread sticking up from the back on the couch. 

 

“Dot called, you know.” Steve sat down on the lean cushion of the couch, dropping the ice pack into his lap. 

 

“I figured. 12 weeks of bootcamp. No word from me would do that.” 

 

“She called 10 times in the last four weeks.” 

 

“That’s never good news.” 

 

“Think she’ll keep it?” Steve felt that maybe this was the wrong time to joke, but the stoned, flush look on Bucky’s face meant that maybe there was some truth to it. This wasn’t the first time they had received a similar call from one of Bucky’s ex-flings, claiming to be a few weeks too long without their Aunt Flo comin’ to town. All turned out to be overreactions. 

 

“You think this one’s real?” 

 

“Do the math, genius. She’d be pretty sure by now.” 

 

“That’s not what I want, Steve.” Bucky felt himself sinking down the armchair of the couch after attempting to sit, suddenly very grateful that he was surrounded by familiar territory and that he wasn’t making these realizations alone. 

 

“Then what do you want?” Steve looked up at him cautiously, wondering if this was finally the moment they talked about this unspoken thing between them. 

 

“It’s complicated.” 

 

“No, Buck. It shouldn’t be.” Steve peered aside him, looking Bucky directly in the eye. 

 

“What I want and what I should do are two different things.” Bucky’s eyes remained unfocused and watery as he stared at the ceiling. 

 

“What you should do?” 

 

“Yeah. I mean, isn’t it obvious? If it’s the real thing, I gotta do right by her. Try to make it through the war in one piece and only get to know my kid through postcards. If I make it out alive.” 

 

“And what do you **want,** Buck?” Steve inched closer as Bucky turned toward him. 

 

“I-...” Bucky slicked his hair back with the palm of his hand. “If you’d have asked me 16 weeks ago, I’d have said you.” 

 

“Me?” 

 

“Yeah, Steve. You.” 

 

“Why?” Yes, because the proper response to your best friend/love of your life telling them they want you is, “Why?” 

 

“If you have to ask that, we need to get more mirrors.” 

 

Steve’s jaw dropped as he rolled his eyes, punching Bucky lightly in the arm. And yeah, the proper reaction of said best friend complimenting you was a punch in the arm. Thanks, brain. 

 

“Dot is-” Steve felt himself sink back under Bucky’s gaze, realizing that he could feel Buck’s breath on his cheek. 

 

“Not you. And here I am, off to Europe. So, why not.” Bucky’s eyesight darted from Steve’s eyes to his lips, letting his tongue poke out to swipe across his bottom lip. 

 

And Bucky closed the distance between them. 

 

Steve felt Bucky’s nose collide into his, and the length of warm, wet lips against his own. Bucky pulled back just as quickly, and Steve watched Bucky’s eyes open. 

 

“Yeah?” Bucky nodded tightly. 

 

Steve felt the blush rush to his face, the apples of his cheeks warming. 

 

“ _Yes._ ” Steve whined. 

 

“Good.” Bucky moved back in and pressed himself back into Steve’s frail frame, running his hand through Steve’s hair to cradle his head. The kiss, which Steve quickly realized was **not** like a bicycle and he had no idea what he was doing, became more heated, causing Bucky to delve further into Steve’s personal space. Not that Steve minded. 

 

Bucky wiggled himself beside Steve’s half-laid body and moaned into the kiss, pulling Steve down with him. Steve found himself grinding against Bucky’s leg everytime he renewed the contact between their lips. Bucky’s tongue darted in and out of Steve’s mouth, sliding his hands down Steve’s back, stopping to squeeze both palms at his ass. Bucky lifted Steve’s frame over top of his hips, centering his legs on either side of him. Bucky’s moan was smooth and deep, and it was music to Steve’s ears. He thought of everything he could do to get him to do it again, and found himself rocking his hips in time with Bucky’s shallow upward thrusts. He could feel Bucky’s twitching and hard member against his own, sliding his length up the front of Buck’s nylon fatigues. 

 

He found himself sitting up, balancing his hands on each of Bucky’s breasts, using one hand to unbutton his own slacks. Bucky watched in wonderment, his mouth slack and quiet, breathless moans leaving his body with each thrust. Steve pulled the zip down with ease as Bucky did the same with his own, one hand remaining to hold Steve’s hips in place. Bucky reached in and paused his motions only to pull himself out. Bucky’s breath almost stopped completely when Steve began to curiously palm the tip, running his fingers over and down the shaft. Bucky let out a deep moan, his fingers working at the cotton to get Steve’s own trapped member out. 

 

Steve could feel the way his body changed the first time Bucky touched his cock. Electricity sparked down his spine as Bucky used his rough hands to pull him out of his confines. It flopped out beside Bucky’s and Steve put them both together. 

 

Using both hands, he pumped at both shafts equally as Bucky tugged at Steve’s nipple. His other hand shot to Steve’s neck, pulling him down into a searing and lengthy kiss. Steve felt the electricity sparking down his spine again, and he knew that if Bucky kept biting his bottom lip like this, that he wouldn’t last much longer. 

 

Steve forced himself to slow his hands down, sinking his teeth into the fat part of Bucky’s bottom lip. 

 

The blonde felt Bucky’s cock pulsate in his hand, a sudden wetness spreading across the underside of their bellies. Bucky let out a punched out groan, his eyes pinched shut. Steve continued for a moment, only to find Bucky’s face going from blissful to uncomfortable. 

 

“S-Steve…” Bucky groaned. “Stop.” 

 

And Steve did. He collapsed on top of Bucky with deep heaving breaths taken through a pair of lips that couldn’t stop smiling. The only thing that made this moment not perfect was the distracting painful feeling he was getting in his own member. 

 

“Ready?” Bucky tucked the sweaty strand of hair dangling from Steve’s head behind his ear, using his palm to caress Steve’s swollen and bruised cheek. 

 

“For what?” 

 

Bucky grabbed ahold of either side of Steve’s hips and thrust him upward, sitting him on the couch in a sitting position. He kneeled between his feet and dipped his fingers into the shallow of Steve’s spine, fingering the hem of Steve’s pants. He pulled them off with little to no finesse, but the shy smile was enough to make up for it. 

 

Steve’s cock bobbed in the open air and Bucky bent down in front of it. He firmly grasped the base and poked his tongue out to lick his way from his fingers to the very top. 

 

Steve’s hips unwillingly launched themselves towards the source and had Bucky’s fingers not been holding him down, Bucky probably would have gotten poked in the eye. 

 

Bucky flattened his tongue and repeated his action, pausing at the top. He opened his mouth and took the first half of Steve’s cock into his mouth. Bucky was warm and wet, his teeth tucked back and enough suction that made Steve want to scream, or cry, or both. Bucky took all of Steve in with a little bit of difficulty, but it didn’t take long for Steve to feel the waves of euphoria to crash around him again. He felt it from the tips of his toes and up to the tip of his cock as Bucky continued to lick and suck. 

 

“Buck… I’m gonna-” 

 

Bucky pushed himself down as far as he could go and Steve felt himself falling. His breath picked up and he felt fireworks blossoming through his veins just as his cock began to pulsate down Bucky’s throat. Bucky swallowed it contently. Steve felt boneless by the time Bucky lifted himself up with the most provocative and sultry look that Steve had ever seen in his entire life. 

 

He felt himself being pulled forward by the lapels on his shirt, finding Bucky’s soft lips against his own. Bucky picked himself up and sat down roughly on the couch beside him, attempting to catch his breath. He pulled at the nylon of his overshirt, plucking the buttons out one by one. He untucked the tucked portions of his shirt, pulling it out from his arms. 

 

He peered at Steve with kind, trusting eyes and the sides of his mouth perked up into a smile. 

 

“Why the hell didn’t I tell you 16 weeks ago?” 

 

The question quickly registered with Steve as he remembered their conversation before all of this happened. And the fact that Dot was pregnant. 

 

“Beats me. You’re the idiot that didn’t.” 

 

“Wish I would have told you before I met Dot and got myself into this mess.” 

 

“Yeah,” Steve laced his fingers across his chest and watched them twirl between each other. “Me too.”


	7. The Last Letter

_Bucky,_

_You’ve been under for 6 months, 2 days and 13 hours. Shuri says she’s coming close and that you’ll be out in less than a month, at best._

_Stuff with the Accords have gotten better and I’ve moved into the Avenger’s tower with some contingencies, but we’ll get to that when you wake up and recover from this mess._

_I’ve been thinking a lot about my last letter, and I realized that I do have some guild left over from Europe._

_I should have sent you home._

_I know I’ve never really been the one to speak up about what’s right for you, but I shouldn’t have let you stay._

_Maybe if you would have went home, you wouldn’t have fallen off that train. You’d have went home to Dot and had a couple of kids, instead of brainwashed and used as someone’s boogeyman._

_I should have looked for you._

_**I should have looked for you.** _

_The boys of the 107th said there’s no way you would have survived and the mission was of the most importance._

_I knew they were wrong. I could feel it._

_Then I crashed the plane and the rest is history._

_Sometimes my nightmares are of you falling. Of losing the grip of my best friend and had I held on a little longer, we may have died together back then. And none of this would have ever happened._

_Maybe I will show you the letters. At least this one._

_So you can know how sorry I am that I let you go._

_Yours,_

_Steve_

__


	8. Home, 2018

Bucky was quiet nowadays. When he did speak, he chose his words wisely like he was chewing on each sentence before letting it slip passed his lips. He adjusted to his new arm quickly in the last 6 months he’d been off the ice, but never wanted to see or be around anyone other than Steve so check-ups were a duo event. 

 

Steve was patient with this Bucky, learning new things as he observed him from across the room. 

 

“How much do you remember about our lives?” 

 

It wasn’t the first time Steve had asked this question, but this is the first time Bucky had answered it. 

 

“I remember everything.” 

 

“Coney Island?” 

 

“Which time? The time we rode the Cyclone and you threw up everywhere, or the time you won that stuffed bear that was too big for you to carry home?” 

 

“The Wonder Wheel?” 

 

“You **would** bring up the Wonder Wheel.” 

 

“It was my first time riding it!” 

 

“And the last.” 

 

The conversation died quickly as the technician entered the room, and Bucky remained silent for the rest of the visit, but the smile never left the otherwise expressionless man. 

 

Steve didn’t like living in the Avenger’s tower much, but he had to admit that the perks were nice. Steve loved to putz around in the kitchen trying to figure out all the gadgets, but for some odd reason he could never get the thing called a “Keurig” right. 

 

Abandoned K-cups stacked the garbage in the corner as Steve made his decidedly last and final attempt against the vial machine, placing his empty cup on the metal tray. It sprang to life as he pressed his preferred buttons, and the first bit of liquid to pour out was actually coffee. 

 

“Buck!” Steve bellowed, the smile rising to his eyes. He raised his arms in victory. “I figured out the percolator!” 

 

When Steve heard no response, he became curious. He peeked down the dark hallway to their adjacent rooms, finding both lights on and the doors open. He waited patiently for his cup to fill and the contraption to shut down before taking a sip, deciding that even that was too hot for Captain America. 

 

“Buck?” Steve rounded the kitchen island, starting down the halls to their bedrooms. 

 

When he was almost halfway, he watched Bucky come out, clutching some white papers in his fingers. Bucky was reading them intently, his eyes scanning the sheets. 

 

“What’s that?” 

 

“Your letters.” Bucky spoke flatly. 

 

“How far did you get?” Steve stopped in his tracks as Bucky dropped his gaze. 

 

“I’ve read them all twice.” 

 

“Look, I can explain-” 

 

Bucky rushed him, dropping the letters to his side as he enveloped Steve’s frame in his arms. Bucky leaned into Steve’s air and pressed his lips into Steve’s. Steve was shocked, his arms clutching into tight fists. Bucky pulled back and shoved the letters into Steve’s chest. 

 

“Dot was never pregnant.” 

 

“What?” 

 

“She was never pregnant. I got a postcard the day before…” Bucky’s eyes lowered as he searched for the most sensitive words to use for such a fucked up situation like falling to your death off a train. “...before it happened. She was calling to tell me she’d met another man, and they were getting married in the May. Wanted to make sure I knew.” 

 

If Bucky hadn’t had a hold of Steve’s shoulders, his knees may have buckled beneath him. 

 

Bucky lurched himself forward again and took Steve’s slack mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. They parted for breath as Bucky raised his knee into Steve’s raging member, making him shutter and throw his head back in a moan. 

 

“I was dying in Europe.” Bucky pushed forward, sliding the cool metal of his left hand up to Steve’s cheek, capturing his lips roughly. “I wanted to tell you I loved you every day… but I so badly needed you to move on so that I could, too.” 

 

“But Buck, if I hadn’t made you stay-” 

 

“Since when have you ever been able to tell me what to do, Rogers?” Bucky ripped the letters away from Steve and scattered them to the floor. “I was a grown man, and I knew what I was getting into. I knew I wanted to follow you into the depths of hell, same as you had done for me.” 

 

“But it’s my fault.” Bucky reached with the fingers not clutched to the side of the blonde’s cheek to cusp Steve’s fingers with his own, entwining them and bringing the joined hands to Bucky’s chest. 

 

“It’s not, Steve. It’s Hydra’s. Had the shit that happened to me not happened, we’d never be here.” Bucky brought Steve’s knuckles to his lips. “I would have died unhappy, alone and a long time ago. I’m not thankful for what i’ve done as the asset, but I'm happy I get to fix what I’ve broken with you at my side.” 

 

Steve lurched forward and toppled Bucky, capturing his lips with a determined grin. Steve swelled with the overwhelming urge to collapse, finally, finally easing in to the comfort that he could have what he’d wanted after all these years. 

 

And boy, was it worth the wait.


End file.
